Draw Me a Story
by Nikol
Summary: A seven-year-old Quatre tells the story behind some drawings


Title: Draw me a Story Author: Nikol Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing... I'm just playing around with them for a little bit Warnings: None Author Notes: Be warned that the ending is a bit of a cop out so I am sorry but endings really aren't my strong point.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Master Quatre! You know you shouldn't be in here. Your father has told you this. Now come on before he returns home."  
  
A middle-aged woman hurried into the large, nearly empty office to collect the seven year old who had surrounded himself with picture filled papers. Lying on his stomach, the boy put the crayon down and propped himself up on his forearms to look at the older woman who now stood above him. With a cheerful smile he pulled his small body under him so that he now sat cross- legged and slowly began to gather his drawings.  
  
"I needed more paper." He responded  
  
Quatre had held up a picture of a green dog the woman had seen drawn nearly two dozen times before. He then placed it down on the pile of blank paper and straightened it out before gathering the other pictures that enclosed him.  
  
The woman gave a half sigh, half giggle, bent down to the same level as the small blond and helped him clean up the crime scene before his father returned and caught his son red-handed in one of the prohibited rooms in the large manor. She did not take notice of the child's drawings; she had seen every drawing the boy had ever done. He would draw the same dog, flower, house, rainbow, and so on and so forth. Gathering a handful of pictures the woman absent-mindedly glanced down and saw a new image; one Quatre had never drawn before. She stopped what she was doing to inspect this original illustration. The subject had been that of a boy wear black shorts and a green tank top. His crudely drawn face looked forlorn. This was the first time the Winner heir had taken the time to draw a person. Months ago one of his tutors had inquired why he never drew people like other children his age did. He had answered while coloring a green fish that people were too hard to draw. Now she stared down at this picture.  
  
"He's sad." Quatre said as he began to place the crayons in their box  
  
"Oh? Why did you make him sad?" She asked  
  
"I didn't make him silly." the boy giggled, "He's real!"  
  
"An imaginary friend' the maid mused silently. 'Well he is a child, and no real friends his own age to play with. It would only be natural that he would create someone to play with"  
  
"He had no family." Quatre explained while purposefully looking for something within the pile of pictures. The woman drew he attention to Quatre.  
  
"He had no mommy or daddy to raise him so he's sad. But one day he will be happy again. They all will be happy again." Quatre continued, now placing three drawings on the floor in front of him. "These two" he said pointing to another boy dressed in black, with a long braid and another wearing the clothes of a clown, "also have no family and he," He now pointed the last picture of a child with a tight ponytail and in an outfit that was reminiscent of that worn in pre-Space Colony China, "has a strict family; stricter than father!" Quatre sighed sadly.  
  
"Do these boys have names?" The woman asked now intrigued by what the boy would say next. She had never seen the boy so full of life. His father kept his son and heir on a rigorous schedule of tutors and lessons in music. The servants saw this program as too tough for any seven year-old to be forced to go though. But the young boy felt he needed to please his father; a father whom seemed to be overcompensating for the death of his wife, Quatre's mother.  
  
"Name?" Quatre asked more to himself than repeating the question, "I don't know. But see him?" he pointed to the picture the woman held, "He's going to save a lot of people when he's older. He's going to help stop a big fight. But he's going to have to do some things people don't like and he's going to have people who don't like him." Quatre wavered between being sad and proud of the boy he was describing.  
  
"And this boy," the blond continued not picking up the image of a young boy in what looked like a priest outfit, "will lose a lot of people close to him but see he's smiling. He's happy like that. Though he does know how to be serious, and when he is serious it shows people that he is not the silly- willy everyone thinks he is. He's going help save people too. They all are. But this boy is going to be smile of the group. Green tank top is the body, this one is the smiles and he is the spirit." Quatre now pointed to the lad clad in the classic Chinese dress.  
  
"He grew up strict, like me. His family is like father is with me. But he's going to overcome them. He's going to fight for what he thinks is right. But he's going to separate himself from the others. He thinks what they are doing will get in the way of his plans. But in the end they all come together!" Quatre now smiled brightly at his little story.  
  
"What about the clown?" the maid asked as she gathered the papers into her arms. She handed the pictures to the boy for him to carry out. He picked up his box of crayons, took the pictures, and stood up. He looked at the clown and smiled at it, almost expecting it to smile back.  
  
"He's sad," he told the picture as the woman ushered him out of the office, "but that's because he never had a mommy or a daddy or anyone to love him. Like you know how daddy is something very mean to me?"  
  
"He means well Quatre, you know that." The woman frowned feel sad about the boys feelings towards his father.  
  
"I know. That what I mean! Daddy can sometimes seem very very mean but I know he loves me. He never had someone like that. But he is the deter... deter..."  
  
"Determination?" the woman finished  
  
"Yeah! He's that of the group! And he will have someone who loves him one day. They all will. The save the world and become happy. No more sadness." Quatre beamed now holding the pictures to his chest.  
  
"That was a very lovely story Quatre." She commented walked down the hall next to the boy.  
  
"It's not a story. It's real."  
  
~End~ 


End file.
